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<title>The Party Reds by Punk_Grape</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097531">The Party Reds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_Grape/pseuds/Punk_Grape'>Punk_Grape</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Splatoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cussing, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:22:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_Grape/pseuds/Punk_Grape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone loves a squid party; Navy is perfectly happy to stay near his base and ink, not bothering anyone. However, someone has other plans, and Navy finally snaps. Afterwards, his friends have a little chat with him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Party Reds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All he did was stand there, but that was apparently too threatening for the idiots in the match. “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine, I’ll be the bad guy,” Navy muttered. A few times now, he’d been inking his side, perfectly content to leave people alone, he even stopped shooting when someone drew near, but this person still splatted him, and went back to partying. His teammates, which included two friends, did nothing, no return fire, no telling them off; it hurt, he hated that it did, but if he was wanted to be the bad guy, fine, he’ll give them something to really complain about. </p><p>He knew rushing into the party, picking out that one person, wouldn’t end well for him; he’d been patient until then, but his desire to care had snapped. No longer bothering to think about the effects it may have, he did what he did best, ink and use his special. Tenta missiles were a favourite of his, especially with long narrow stages, such as Arowana Mall, it was easier to hit all four targets. Once he’d filled his special, a quick superjump to spawn had him in prime position to get everyone in his sights, even a friend. At that point, he couldn’t care less, and fired the missiles. </p><p>Sharp green eyes watched as they sailed across the map, honing in on the targets. “Fuck you, dance for me,” he muttered as he hopped down and started inking again. Once more, when the special was filled, he jumped to spawn and let loose his missiles, this time splatting a friend, but he didn’t stop; why should he when they all made it evident he meant less than the random partier they met? </p><p>No regret, no remorse filled him, his conscience still clear as he inked forward; throughout the match, he’d activated his special six times, caught two friends and one other opponent in his missiles, it was a good match. Between rounds, his friends watched him, and at the start, watched Navy roll off of spawn immediately to ink, pulling out his special within seconds. As soon as he fired off the missiles, before he could continue forward, his friend grabbed his shoulder. “What gives?” his friend asked. </p><p>Navy didn’t turn around, he simply walked forward, breaking the contact made. “You know my policy, Hunt. If you try to get me, I play normally.” Eyes narrowed, he finally spun to face his friend. “And if I’m honest, my patience has completely fucking snapped. So you go down there and party, I don’t care, but my missiles will ruin it, even for a millisecond, that I can guarantee.” </p><p>Hunter shook his head. “Just take a deep breath, calm down.”</p><p>“Nope,” was all Navy said, then turned around and began to ink; he just didn’t care anymore, boo hoo if someone got upset with him, he reveled in it. “Time to dance, bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he went to superjump to spawn, eyes watching another friend and his main target party together. “Looks like it’s two to dance. Be my fucking guest.” </p><p>Missiles away, Navy felt accomplished that he was doing well to ink, his team already showing a major lead, in no small part thanks to him. With no one else fully inking, he was in a nice win streak, and felt pretty good about himself. </p><p>By the time stages had changed, he’d splatted everyone countless times, and could feel the heated glares from a few. Good, if they were pissed, he was happy, he’d accomplished what he wanted, to be the bad guy. </p><p>His friends, however, saw it a little different. It was well known Navy had a disdain for parties, it was always a fifty fifty shot of him inking or just straight up leaving, but they hadn’t seen him act like this. Instead of queuing up for another turf battle, Navy was dragged to sit down, they wanted chat. </p><p>All three friends sat opposite him, making him feel like a target. “Look, if you’re looking for an apology, you’re not getting one.” </p><p>Hunter and Vector raised their eyebrows when they saw Zip cross his arms and lean forward. “And why not?” The dynamo user asked. </p><p>Today was not a day to back down, Navy felt. “I’m not apologizing for doing the right thing.” </p><p>“You were being an ass,” Hunter butted in. “How is that doing the right thing.” </p><p>Navy huffed, shoulders puffed, eyes looking to the side. “Figures,” he muttered, not actually answering the question until Hunter repeated himself. “Was I not supposed to play the bad guy? Was that not what people wanted? That chicken shit came after me when I had my weapons lowered, splatted me, and went back to partying.” </p><p>“We didn’t see-“ </p><p>“Five. Fucking. Times. Bullshit you didn’t see. So yeah, alright if you want me to be the bad guy, ‘look I got him I saved the party’ fucknut certainly did.” Navy turned to look at each friend, well, ‘supposed friend’ in his mind. “I don’t care if you don’t want to act, but have the guts to actually say you didn’t want to do anything. To defend a friend instead of a rando.” </p><p>He stood from his chair abruptly, knocking it backwards. “Don’t follow, or you’ll have to actually hurt me to stop me,” he said, back turned as he walked towards the tower, hands in pockets. “Alright matchmaking, I dare you to put me in a party again,” he muttered as he walked. </p><p>Footsteps were running behind him to catch up, and Navy was very close to a second breaking point; he couldn’t have just a moment of peace to do as he wanted. “I thought I made it clear, don’t follow me.” </p><p>“Too bad we don’t listen well,” Vector mentioned as he walked past Navy. </p><p>“And we’re you’re friends. Wouldn’t be good friends if we weren’t willing to break your nose for being a dick,” Hunter added, and Zip nodded. “If you want to be pissy, alright, but we will beat you up if that’s what it takes.” </p><p>Navy narrowed his eyes. “If you can catch me in battle, I dare you to try.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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